


Plus One

by magicspills



Series: The Adventures of Icarus Pitch [4]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baby on board, Fluff, Gen, domestic snowbaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicspills/pseuds/magicspills
Summary: Simon Snow and Baz Pitch have been together for awhile now and finally came to a big decision: making a new addition to the family.





	Plus One

**Author's Note:**

> let's pretend I know how adoption works, okay?

Adopting Icarus would have to be the best decision of our lives. 

When Baz and I first got together, we never gave much thought about the future. It was always hot kisses, and embraces that kept us wanting more. But five years later, we came to an important decision. 

We wanted to have a child. 

We knew that eventually we wanted to get married, but Baz said that he didn't want to be the type of people who get married and start a family right after, so we decided to wait before getting married. But a child is what we wanted more than a wedding. It made sense.

I was left an orphan with no clear understanding of why my parents never wanted me, any why they gave me up. And Baz wanted a child so he can give his child the life he always wanted but never got. So having a baby and giving them the life they deserve; filled with love and hope, it feels right.

At first we went to Penny and asked her if she wanted to be our surrogate, but that was also the day she announced her own pregnancy with her first child and said that one child is enough right now, and to come back to her in a couple years and see if she wants to go through with pregnancy yet again 

We decided to let that idea go, and find more options. One of them was to actually go to a fertility clinic, but Baz didn't like the thought of someone he doesn't know personally, bear his child and that's understandable, so we decided to go with option C: Adoption. 

At first it was tough. We knew magic was precious and the chance of there being any sort of magickal adoption agency was slim, but we decided to look anyway. We read up on book, traveled as far as Canada to see if any of the legends were true. Unfortunately, no Canadian Mages had heard of magickal adoption being a real thing. 

So we went back to London with our tails between our legs. (My dragon tail was literally between my legs, it wraps itself around my ankle from time to time.) 

Then a miracle happened. 

An older woman, who had been sitting beside Baz and I, had been overhearing the conversation Baz and I were having about just going through with the fertility clinic. And somewhere in the conversation she heard the word; “mage” and “child” come up and she told us something we never thought we'd hear. 

In Scotland, Glasgow, there was underground Magickal Orphanage for infertile mages who are looking to adopt. She assured us it was all perfectly legal, but because the Coven thinks it would frown upon other Mages, but they allow advocates to guide Mages towards the orphanage if they're interested. 

She gave us a map and a card with a number on it. She said when you're ready, give them a call and they'll have the papers set up. 

As soon as we got to London, we didn't even hesitate in calling. They picked up on the first ring and we booked an appointment and they mailed us pamphlets of children who we feel will be a good addition to our family. 

Now the real challenge was bestowed on us; which child were we going to adopt?

“No, Snow, we can't adopt all of them,” Baz said. We were sitting in the child's room we set up. It was cream colored with roses decorated along the walls. Penny helped us with the decorating and she did not disappoint. I was trying my hardest to persuade him, I was kissing his neck and he was making these soft, little grunts that he tried to cover up with a cough. 

“But Baz, they're all so adorable, we can do it,” I said, and nuzzled my nose in the crook of his neck. “We can move out of this apartment and buy a farm big enough for all us. We'll have five chickens, a cow, some goats and of course, we'll have a rooster.”

That didn't seem to gel well with him. 

“A farm?” Baz said and looked at me as if he couldn't believe what I was saying. “Snow, I am a Pitch. And Pitches do not live on farms with animals, I'll be dead before you even think about moving our child to a farm.”

I shrug and began to unsubtly unbutton the top of his collar shirt, exposing the pale, marble of his skin. 

“I think you'd look rather hot plowing the hay fields,” I'd whisper in his ear and smile when I felt him shudder against me.

He would always give into me when I kiss his ear, but this time he stood his ground. 

There was no way in hell that Baz Pitch was going to live on a farm and plow hay. 

—

We decided that looking at pamphlets wouldn't be a good idea. All the photos has kids with big smile and cute button noses that it was impossible to make a decision. 

So we decided to make the drive to Glasgow ourselves and meet the children in person to see which is good fit. 

That was even worse. As soon as we walked into the room full of young children with bright eyes and big, happy faces, I instantly wanted to go back on my promise and take them all home with me. Baz looked at me like he knew what I was going to try and convince him. But he was right.

One is good, for now.

The caregivers who work at the Orphanage had allowed us to stay and interact with the kids before making our decision.

We stayed there for what felt like forever. All the kids were special and unique in their own ways, and all that ran through my mind was that I wanted them all. I wonder how much it would take to convince Baz to let us buy a farm…

There was this one boy, with brown hair and blue eyes, one that we thought would be a good fit but as soon as Baz smiled at him, he began to cry, so we looked some more. There was this one girl, looked no more than 5, who was following us around with bright red curly hair. Her name was Cheryl, and when we asked if she wanted to go home with us, she said she already had a home.

She belonged to one of the caregivers, and Cheryl was just playing with the other kids.

It shouldn’t have been this hard to find a child, any of the kids would be a good fit for us. So why are we struggling so much?

Baz was having a tea party with a few girls, but none of them seemed interested in wanting to come with us. So Baz looked at me as if to say “Want to call it a day?”

I didn’t want to give up. Not now. Not when we came so close to completing our family.

But when I heard that soft, gentle cry for the first time, I was hooked. 

Baz heard it too, (vampire hearing) and we walked towards the corner of the room, where the baby cribs were, the soft cries grew louder. When we came in, the ladies in the front told us the cribs were empty, so why are we hearing crying? We followed the noise to a crib painted pale peach and peered in. The sight blew us away.

It was a baby boy, wrapped up in a yellow blanket, he couldn’t have been more than 1 years old, with little strands of blonde hair peeking from the top of his head. In all my time spent with Baz, I’d never seen him speechless, until now.

He picked up the little boy and cradled him in his arms. The baby, who had been crying, stopped his tears to look up at Baz with eyes so blue, it made my heart stopped.

This baby was beautiful.

“What’s his name?” I said, looking at the crib and saw that it had no name like the other cribs did.

“He has no name,” An unfamiliar said, and we turned to see the Head of the Orphanage behind us with a sad look on her face. “A man dropped him off a few weeks ago, sadly the parents died in a house explosion. The boy was left unharmed thankfully, but the man who dropped him said he couldn’t take care of the baby and dropped him off here.”

“How come no one has taken him home?” Most parents would love the thought of having a baby. So how come this little angel, who was holding Baz’s finger, was left without a home?

“They didn't quite enjoy the thought of the child with no name, or even if the family is deceased or not,” she said, and shakes her head gently. “They wanted to avoid any legal issues if the family is actually alive.”

So they just left the child with a theory that might not even true? Baz looked at me, and I knew. 

We'll face that road if and when it ever comes to it. But right now, we're going to adopt this baby and give him the life he very much well deserved. 

—

After hours of paperwork, it was nearing twilight when Baz and I were able to take our child home. I couldn't stop smiling the whole drive back. It was like everything was falling into place. 

And it was. 

“He need a name,” I said, when we walked through our door early in the morning. I was tried and I could see the dark circles forming under Baz's eyes. But at the same the same time we too happy to consider sleep. 

We sat on the couch, Baz held the child in his arms, running his hand through the small strands of hair, I've never seen him smile this much. I rest my head on his shoulder, names like Peter, Marshall, Kyle and so much more flashed through my mind. 

He deserved a name that would fit him well when he grows. He needs a name that is unique and one of its kind. 

I leaned over and whispered in Baz's ear, to not wake up our son. 

Our son. We actually have a child. 

It is all so… perfect. 

“No, Snow. We're not naming our kid Jean Jacques,” Baz said in a deadpan voice. “You have a problem with clothing items, you know that?”

“Only when I see you in jeans,” I smile and kiss his cheek. He rolls his eyes, a small smile creeping on his lips. 

“Okay, how about Harry?”

“Snow, we're not even sure if he's a mage or not. And he most certainly isn't Harry bloody Potter.”

“He could be a Styles.”

“No.”

The night was spent arguing between names. Most parents know ahead of time, but not us, because we're such a mess that we can't even decide on a name for our unnamed child for Crowley's sake.

“I bet my mom never had this problem naming her children.” Baz said out of the blue, his voice a soft whisper to avoid waking the baby.

“I’m sure ‘Simon’ wasn’t on my parent’s top list of baby names before they left me.” I said. I meant for it to come like a joke, but it came out more as something sad, Baz frowned at me and kissed my neck. 

“Simon is a beautiful name. Let’s name him Simon Jr. yeah?” 

I laughed, trying hard to avoid waking up our child and shook my head. “Let’s just name him Sonny.” I joked.

Baz was about to say something but he stopped short and looked at me as if he just suddenly realized something. He handed the baby to me and pulled out his mobile and typed something in. What good can Google do right now?

“Icarus.” He said.  
“What?” I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

What’s an Icarus?

“Icarus,” Baz said again and when he saw that I had no idea what he was saying, he raised an eyebrow at me. “Tell me you’ve heard of the story of Icarus, Snow.”

“Definitely,” I lied and smiled when he rolled his eyes. “But care to freshen up my memory?”

“The story is about Icarus and his father, Daedalus attempting to escape from Crete, by doing so, Daedalus molded wings out of wax and feathers,” He read the story, and for a minute I think he’s told this story before. He’s just reading off Wikipedia. “Daedalus told Icarus not to fly too close to sun or else the wax will melt. Icarus didn’t listen and flew too close, and fell to his death.”

“So,” I said, looking down at the sleeping babe. Everytime I look at him, my heart flutters. “You want to name our child after some guy who didn’t listen to his dad and died?” I asked and Baz nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I’m going to pass on that one.”

“Don’t you get it, Snow?” Baz says and takes my hand in his, I’m still holding the baby. He kisses my knuckles, his lips lingering for awhile.

“You were the sun, and I was crashing into you.”

I swear I felt my heart stop right then and there. And suddenly the name made much more sense, in every, crazy way possible.

“Okay, you won me over,” I said and he gave me a smirk and kissed my lips. “Icarus is his name.”

Baz holds Icarus’s more smaller hand and holds it. And for a moment, I think he’s going to cry again.

“My mother would be so proud.”

“Speaking of your mother,” I smile, “I was thinking of Nathaniel for his middle name. I mean we could name him Natasha, but I don’t want our kid to be bullied.”

Baz giggled, and covered his mouth with the back of his hand to stifle the laughs. “Nathaniel. I like it.”

In end, he was called Icarus Nathaniel Snow-Pitch. It’s a mouthful for such a small child, but he’ll grow to love it. After all, he was named after our love and his late grandmother.

Natasha would be proud.


End file.
